"You seem different, Kurt. You're not acting yourself. You're so quiet. It's been days since you've made a sarcastic comment."

"Oh, really? I didn't notice," Kurt sneered, crossing his arms and directing his gaze towards the floor.

"Seriously, Kurt. I'm worried about you," Professor Winston gave Kurt a meaningful glare. Kurt shivered. It wasn't that he was cold or anything. It was just a weird vibe that he couldn't explain. "And I want to help you."

"Nothing is wrong with me, Professor. I'm fine. I'll be fine," Kurt snapped, not looking up.

"Kurt, I'm going to offer you a job. I want you to be happy. I know you have been stressed or something. You've been searching for jobs and I know that you're having trouble. But I just got approached by the manager of a young boy who needs a personal stylist. I've been asked to find one of my students for the job."

"So you're choosing me because you feel sorry for me?"

"No!" Professor Winston looked shocked. "No, Kurt. You are one of my best students. You're sketches are quite literally some of the best I've seen. That's why it should be you. Not because you've been acting different, but I do think that this will help you."

There was a silence while Kurt contemplated this. A job. He needed one. Keeping up with the rent on his apartment was a daily struggle. You can only earn so much money working on and submitting sketches late night after working part time at a coffee shop in between and after his classes. A real job, though. Kurt really, really needed one. And here he was, being offered something extremely close to his dream job. It couldn't hurt, right?

"When do I start?"

~~~

Lima hadn't changed at all.

It was still the same small, worthless town Kurt had grown up in. Kurt had been glad to get out of it. New York was his dream, after all. He hadn't planned on coming back.

He didn’t know what it was that scared him the most about his return to Lima. The unavoidable stream of questions, having to face his father, the possibility of running into... No, the new superstar Blaine was on his world tour. Way too busy for little old Ohio. Kurt tried to shake the thought out of his head. However, he found that the thoughts kept coming back, no matter what Kurt did to try and deter them.

Kurt drove down the familiar road. It was strange. Almost like d�j� vu, but not quite. He slowed down as he approached Hummel Tires and Lube, pulling into the parking lot slowly.

It’s way too late to turn around now, Kurt. You can do this.

He opened the door and entered the garage, the door ringing out as it hit the familiar bell, fearless. In demeanor, at least. Inside his mind was quite a different story.

“Hey, welcome to Hummel Tires and Lube, I’ll be with you in a sec.”

Kurt’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized the voice of Finn, his own brother, coming from underneath an old car. He bit his lip, tears springing up in his eyes.

“Finn? It’s me, Kurt.”

“Holy crap,” Finn practically yelled, dropping some tool on the ground with a loud, metallic clang and swiveling out from underneath the car. “Holy crap, Kurt!”

Finn looked good. Not that he didn’t before, but... It’s amazing what a few years can do. He was taller, if that was even physically possible. Not by much, maybe a half inch. Enough that Kurt took notice. His face was slimmer, more structured. He had scruff growing in. He looked so grown up. Kurt couldn’t help but stare.

“Finn,” Kurt whispered, before enveloping himself in Finn’s embrace.

“Where the hell have you been, Kurt? Come home one day to find Blaine here, crying his freaking life out, completely heartbroken that you wanted to leave him. And then you just ignore us all for a whole freaking year? What the hell, man? Dude, you don’t know how much we’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, Finn.”

“Then why didn’t you come back? Or at least let us know that you were okay?” The silence was an answer enough for Finn. “Okay, fine. We can talk about this later. Just let me close up shop and we can head home. You see Burt yet?”

Kurt bit his lip again and shook his head, his tears no longer fighting to be held back. They just fell now.

“Are you okay, Kurt?”

Kurt shook his head.

“Alright. Let’s head home. We can talk about it.”

~~~

"Hey, Burt! I'm home!"

"Finn, you're home early. Why'd you close up shop?" Burt Hummel called, not bothering to turn his gaze away from the football game as he heard the front door slam and the shuffle of feet.

"Um, Burt, there's somebody here to see you."

"Who the heck-" Burt turned around from the sofa to see who was with Finn at the door.

Kurt stood in the middle of the doorway. Dressed in multiple layers, a thick grey scarf covering the entirety of his neck, and black fingerless gloves. He stood there, his expression filled with countless emotions. A single tear trailed down his pale, frozen cheeks as he looked back at his father. His father who he hadn't spoken to in over a year.

"Hi, daddy."

"Kurt."

~~~
"So you gonna tell us why you stopped talkin' to us?" Burt asked, the entire Hummel-Hudson family gathering around the kitchen table for the first time since Kurt left for college. Kurt shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of his father, Finn, and Carole.

"I didn't want to face the questions. I didn't want to be hated for what I did to... him. I didn't want to have to see him again." Burt and Carole exchanged a glance.

"You hurt him pretty bad, kid."

"I know." The silence lingered. It was cold and almost painful for Kurt.

"Why'd you come back?" Burt asked. Kurt straightened up, realizing that this reunion wasn't supposed to be about reminiscing about the past. It was about fixing the future.

"I got a job. A good one. And... I don't know. I just felt like I needed a fresh start."

"Thanks for coming back, kid. You tore us up, when you stopped calling," Kurt started chewing his lip, thinking of a response. A question nagged at him.

"Why didn't you come search for me?" Burt let out an exasperated sigh.

"We figured that if you wanted to talk to us about it, you would have."

"Oh."

The silence returned again.

"It's good to have you back, dude. I missed you," Finn patted Kurt's back with a grin.

"I missed you, too, Finn," Kurt replied, smiling lightly.

"So what is it about this job?" Carole said, speaking up after being especially quiet.

"Oh, I'm not really sure. I'm a personal stylist for some kid I've never met. But I'm going to get paid really well. So, really, I could be dressing a Chihuahua for all that I care."

This time everybody smiled. Burt let out a low chuckle. It was almost normal.

"When does that start?"

"I have to be in New York again tomorrow."

"When are you leaving?"

"First thing in the morning, I think. That is, if you don't mind me staying the night, of course."

Kurt looked at his father and step-mother questioningly. Burt spoke up immediately. "Kurt, this is your home. You will always be welcome here."

"Thank you, dad," he said with a gentle smile.

~~~

“So, who’s still in town?” Kurt said with a sigh, getting himself comfortable on top of his old bed. His bedroom was almost untouched. Emptier than it was in high school, obviously, but the furniture was all in place. It comforted Kurt. It made him feel at home.

“Not many people, actually. Most of us managed to get out of Lima. Quinn’s still around. Sam, too. They’re together again. So are Puck and Lauren. We’re all still going to Lima Community College. So they’re around, I guess. We talk and stuff,” Finn said, dragging Kurt’s old vanity chair closer to the bed and sitting down to face Kurt. He handed him a glass. Warm milk. Wow, did this bring back memories...

“How is Rachel doing?”

“As well as can be expected, I guess. She’s still at NYADA. She’s doing pretty well there. But be glad you didn’t go. She says that... it’s a lot of pressure,” Finn said, with a hint of sadness in his voice that Kurt caught on to.

“Are you still with her?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think so. We Skype almost every night, so...” Finn trailed off. Kurt noted the tone of his voice and assumed that Rachel might be a touchy subject for Finn, so he let it go.

“How about the others?”

“Um well, Mike and Tina moved to... I forget where. Mike and Tina moved somewhere. Mike has a dance studio, actually. Last I heard they’re doing well. Rachel told me that they’re trying to save up money so Mike can go to a professional dance school. Artie went to college in Boston. I think he’s still there. He visited Lima a couple months back and brought his girlfriend, so I assume he’s doing well. Santana and Britt live together. Not in Lima, but in Ohio somewhere. They’ve been really anti-social. No idea how they’re doing. Mercedes is doing really well. She’s still in Chicago. She got a recording contract a couple weeks back. She’s been working on that.”

“That’s awesome,” Kurt mumbled sleepily, his eyes half open. “Remind me to call her.”

“She misses you, you know. She took it the hardest when Blaine told us what happened. Didn’t talk for days.”

“Can you tell me about Blaine?” Kurt whispered, chewing on his bottom lip again until he tasted blood.

“What do you want to know?”

“What happened after we... broke up?”

“Well... Blaine came back to Lima. He shut down completely. His parents got so sick of his moping that he spent lots of nights here. He slept in here. He said your room smelt like you, or something. It kind of just went on like that. He kept on singing in the New Directions. He was writing these original songs... They were really amazing. They won nationals with his songs. That’s when a talent scout found him. He started working on an album. It got released and it got super popular. Then he left for a tour. It all happened really quickly. I don’t think even he knows what he’s doing. But we’re all proud of him. He looks pretty happy, I guess.” He said that last part doubtfully.

Kurt was crying. He couldn’t help himself. Knowing that Blaine was in pain for all that time and it was all his fault... It hurt him.

“You’re exhausted, Kurt. You had better get a good night’s sleep if you want to do awesome at your new job tomorrow,” Finn said, standing up and putting the vanity chair back in its rightful place. Kurt nodded slowly, wiping away his tears with the palm of his hand and crawling underneath the warm, comforting covers of his old bed.

“Goodnight, Finn.”

“Goodnight, Kurt.”